Life (and Death) in the Caribbean
by barmecidalcandle
Summary: James and Alexander are growing up in the Caribbean together. Things are great until loss and tragedy ensues. They both go kind of nuts in grief; Alexander moreso than James. It starts with Alexander and James's dad leaving, and it goes downhill from there. This is not historically accurate at all. It's loosely based off of what really happened. Prequel to Hamilton/Sweeney Todd AU.


**NOTE:** This is not historically accurate. Like, at all. It was originally a roleplay and it's going to lead up to a Sweeney Todd/Hamilton crossover, so just a little backstory. Also, trigger warnings for everything! It's gonna get real fucked up, even if it is censored to fit the guidelines of this website. I'll put up a link to the full uncensored story soon! Enjoy!

Alexander loved life. At the break of dawn, he'd shoot off of his straw mattress and toss on a gown—which was typically a dull, drab color—shake off any remaining drowsiness, and attend to his daily chores immediately. He would bring in fuel for his father then work in the field located in their backyard for hours until he got permission from his parents to halt, and by then, it was typically three or four in the afternoon. His brother always had to work in the field later than him, since he always woke up later and had to tend to his apprenticeship seven times a week, which he knew nothing about but didn't care. That was incredibly convenient, because Alexander always had their room to himself. He could read for hours in silence, which made him so joyous. The only problem he had with his daily routine was he was not permitted to go to school. He begged and begged his parents, but it was always "you can't" or "if we had a choice you'd be at school right now". It was so tedious! His brother told him that there were over one hundred kids in the building during school and that you could talk to whoever you wanted at any time, that you could befriend all of them and learn together. Then you'd see them ever day! He also heard the teachers were always like a second mother, young, and very, very kind, and he wanted to meet one someday. The closest thing he had to a teacher was his own mother, who taught him to read when he was five years old. Now he was ten and knew he excelled at it, thanks to her. She wasn't a real teacher, though, and probably not as smart as one. He bet they were so, so smart.

One day, Alex's brother came inside from the field, covered from head to toe in mud and shooting Alex a glare as soon as he stepped into the room. Alex only made it worse by saying, "That's why you don't wait until five in the afternoon to do your chores, dummy!" His brother snatched his book out of his hand and started rubbing mud all over the pages that were left after he tore a majority of them out. Alex sprinted out of their room, sobbing like he just witnessed a cat's death. His books were the light of his life along with what he held closest to his heart and destroying one made him indescribably upset: it felt like a sharp pain through his heart. He instantly saw his mother sewing in the corner of the living room, rocking back and forth in a wooden chair his father made. He tripped on his way over to her and he felt pain surge through his body as he scraped his knees against the ground, his head harshly landing against the rough material of his mother's blueish gray gown. He was sobbing so hard he could not open his eyes, tears flowing down his flushed cheeks. "Mama!" He cried, gently banging his fist against her leg. "James... James... h-he-... he killed my book!" He hiccuped, pressing his face against her dress.

Rachel set down her work on the table before her, frowning. She grabbed Alexander by his underarms and pulling him into her lap. "Hey, it's alright," she whispered in his ear, kissing his cheek. It killed her to see her little Alexander in distress, especially knowing it was because of his own brother's foolishness. She loved them both dearly, but their bickering would get on her nerves quite often. She had been peacefully sewing herself gloves until Alexander came in, distraught about his book. "Which one was it, sweetie? Maybe we can get you a new one." She ran her fingers through his hair. "There's no reason to cry, alright?" She quietly shushed him, rocking back and forth in her chair. "James will get what he deserves for this."

Alexander had so many thoughts and inquiries rushing through his head and all of them only made him sob harder, and he wanted to stop them, but he couldn't. He was absolutely furious that his brother would do such a thing to him, even knowing how much he loved reading. How hard he worked every day and how early he woke up just so he'd be able to read. Why would he do that to his book? Just because he made a simple remark! Did he enjoy seeing him upset? Did he actually hate him that much? "F-Frankenstein," he whimpered, certain it was unintelligible. He kept his eyes shut tightly, gasping and pressing his face against the crook of his mother's neck, sniveling against her shoulder.

James stormed into the living room with the remains of the book in his hand, outraged by the sight of Alexander in their mother's lap. He was sobbing like a goddamn baby. He was too old for this! Why was she encouraging it? "Yeah, and I'd do it again," he said through clenched teeth, throwing the book at the back of Alexander's head. "You're always on his side! You **know** he's too old to be crying like this. Pa would slap me across the face for that, but Alex has to be treated like the baby. He definitely acts like one!" He could hear Alexander sobbing harder in response to his words, which made him roll his eyes. "God... and you're just gonna let him. Like always!"

Rachel's heart sank as James walked into the room. "James, I don't have time for this," she stated, instinctively flinching and watching her hand fly up to the back of Alexander's head. Jesus Christ. "James, be nice to your brother. I know you two don't agree on much but can you please just leave each other alone?" Hearing Alexander sobbing over his brother made her eyes water. This happened way more often than she wanted it to. It was getting old. Of course she'd always be there for her baby Alexander, but James can never seem to keep himself from tormenting his little brother. "If Alexander is acting like a baby, you're not much better yourself," she mumbled. "You were the one who provoked him. You put this on yourself, son." She wrapped her arms tightly around Alexander as an act of protection for whatever James will try next on him.

Feeling his mother's protective arms around him made Alexander calm down, but he continued to whimper and gasp into the crook of her shoulder. The book hitting the back of his head did not hurt very bad with his mother's hand breaking most of the impact, and he was used to his brother throwing things at him; of course, it scared him a lot, but the words upset him more. He knew his brother really felt that way. In his books, siblings always loved each other dearly, and that was the way it was supposed to be. He didn't know why they were different. "Make him stop, mama..." he breathed out, grasping her gown. "He's scaring me." He began to sob once again, not having a clue why his remark set James off like this.

"You've gotta be kidding me!" James exclaimed, his arms shooting out. "I put it on myself? He's the one who mocked me after I worked barefoot in the field for eight hours while it poured down rain! And of course, little baby Alexander only has to work three hours. I'd get up that damn early too if I didn't have any real work to do, but he just sits around reading. Wasting time. If I had that kind of time... you don't even know." He frowned, furrowing his brows. "You need to realize he's old enough to stop wearing the damn dresses and to start working! For real working! When I was ten, I wore dress shirts with my vest and trousers every day no matter how hot it was and worked for at least six hours. And like I said, I didn't cry like a baby because I didn't want to get smacked. Why is Alexander different? Why? Why does he get special treatment?"

Rachel was more focused on calming Alexander down than listening to James speak. "He is not you, James!" She retorted, calming herself as she realized she was raising her voice. "Alexander was not born to be a strong worker like you were, James. Alexander was born to be a bookworm. He works as much as he can, as do you. You act as if you get no credit for this." She kept her voice hushed as she spoke, though found it hard to do so as James's words and actions were infuriating. She could stand him always hurting her little boy Alexander. She looked down at him, kissing his head. "You need to stop before I ask your father to make you work," she added with a scoff, smirking. "You need to rest. Both of you do. Alexander, would you like to rest with me instead of with your brother?"

James seemed as if he had calmed down, only staring at his mother with wide eyes and furrowed brows, looking more crushed than anything. "Not born to be a strong worker? He's going to have to be a man someday and work as much as everyone else. Do you not realize that?" The anger in his voice was now beginning to fade. He acknowledged he had to be at least a bit mature to convince her of anything, which was difficult for a thirteen year old boy who couldn't even stand to look at his overly feminine ten year old brother who was treated more like he was six. He hesitated before saying, "You know I love Alex, but god, he's gonna have to start going to apprenticeship in two or three years, which will be labor like he's never experienced before. No, they wont go easy on him because he wasn't born to be a strong worker or whatever. You don't know what it's like, ma, but you're just making it harder on him by treating him like this. How will he support a family? Well, I doubt he'll even be able to find a wife if you keep this up." Alexander blocked out everything James was saying, still sobbing softly and whimpering against his mother's shoulder. When she asked if he wanted to rest with her instead, he lifted his head, blinking away tears and quickly nodding his head. He kissed her on the cheek before resting his head back on her shoulder.

"Yes, yes, of course I'm aware of all of this," Rachel responded. "He cannot do much now, but I know he will within a year's time. I can't push him to do something he doesn't want to do. It's very counterproductive." She gently rubbed Alexander's back, thankful James could calm himself down. "I know he'll find a wife one day." This was the one thing she was actually unsure about. It was not because he was not strong, he just simply did not seem to fancy girls that much. Perhaps that will change as he grows older and is breeched. "You and Alexander are both going to meet the loves of your life, whoever they may be, and you will spend the rest of your lives with them." She hadn't truly realized how much Alexander was crying until he lifted his head to nod. Her dress was very damp with his tears. Poor thing. "I would've done this for you, too, James, but you never seemed like you needed it. There is no special treatment going on. I just care for my babies the best I can."

James considered what his mother was saying, staring at the floor. He audibly chuckled when Rachel stated he would find a wife one day, shaking his head. What woman would want to be with Alexander? He could tell that Alex was not going to change much. Hell, he might not even want a wife, even after his breeching, which was long overdue. That would be disgusting and he truly hoped it was not true. If their father found that out after he was expected to become a man, he didn't even know what Alexander's punishment would be. Something terrible. "Fine," was all he said before walking into the kitchen, grabbing a bucket and heading outside into the front yard. He was going to fill it with water from the rain and sponge himself down in their room.

As soon as James left, Alexander mumbled, "Why is he so mean to me, mama? What did I do?" He began to sob once again, tightly gripping at her dress. This typically happened every time James did something awful to him, which was every day. He wouldn't always go to his mother, but it certainly helped to. "Papa is mean to me too. I don't know why." He could barely get the words out.

Rachel watched James walk off, sighing. Being so rude isn't going to get him a wife, either. She wished him good luck if he doesn't start correcting his behavior. It's going to get him fired, too. She turned her attention towards Alexander as soon as he began to speak, sympathetically shushing him. "It's not your fault, Alexander. It's not your fault," she whispered into his ear calmly, rocking them back and forth once again. "Nothing is your fault. James...and your father...are very bitter. They are upset too much. It's not your fault."


End file.
